Speak to me slowly,
I want to understand every word that comes out of your mouth,
I want to savor every letter you use,
I want to feel every syllable you pronounce.
Speak to me slowly,
I want to understand your troubles,
I want to know how you achieved each victory
and how much each renunciation cost you.

Speak to me slowly,
I want to understand what you say,
I want to know about your mistakes,
and for you to tell me from the depths of your soul,
what you felt in each situation.

Speak to me slowly,
I want to understand you,
and try to feel what you felt,
and if I can't, I'll just give you a hug.

I was there,
sitting in that place.

You showed up unannounced,
no warning, no welcome.

You started asking questions,
questions I answered all wrong.

It was like you couldn’t see
that I didn’t want you there.

Before you left,
your hand went where I didn’t want it to go.

Just for not thinking—
just for one moment—
you changed a life.

In your moment of desire,
you left a wound that never fades.

But my essence is strong,
and my soul still shines.
You didn’t take my smile,
because I learned to rise again.

What you were
stayed in the past.
What I am
stands in freedom.

I speak to you, son,
so that you will let me go,
let me go to heaven,
where the angels await me.

I speak to you, son,
so that you will know I'm okay,
let me continue on my path,
where I must go.

I speak to you, son,
so that you will not hold me back,
let me run among the clouds,
where my path has just begun.

I speak to you, son,
so that you will let me go,
let me go,
where my soul will be free.

Father, I understood that letting go of you is freeing myself.

Father, here I light these 5 candles,
one to thank you for each gift,
one to thank you for each moment given,
one to thank you for all you sacrificed for me,
one for each motivation and each affirmation,
one to thank you for each caress and each kiss.

5 candles that show all the love you gave me.
It wasn't enough, or not enough,
but it was what we knew how to give each other.

I'm letting you go.
Rest in peace.
I love you, Father.

All morning,
Same bus,
Same seat.

She's wearing her long black pants,
A warm smile,
And classic bright eyes.

I should, but I don't have the courage to talk to her.
I don't know why I'm so afraid.
I don't even know her.

But something attracts me.
I don't know what it is.
But it attracts me.

Hello, baby.
My presence is for you.
Here we are, together.

I'm with you,
in this sacred room,
where nothing will hurt you.

I'll take care of you,
I'll hold you if you fall,
I'll be a shelter in cold weather,
and I'll hold you if you undress.

I'm here,
so that whatever must happen can happen.
I'll hold you with all that I am.

I'll hold you with respect,
with care,
with love.

I'll place my hand on your chest,
and we'll walk together wherever we need to go.
You can take it away whenever you want,
or when you no longer feel me.

I'm here for you.
You can leave if you want,
you can stay if you want.
I'll always be there for you.

Hello little dreamer,
I'm your adult self.

Being an adult isn't as magical as you think.

There are no great dragons,
but there will be
many cowards,
stabbing your back.

There are no great castles,
but there are treacherous ones,
losing their courage.

Thousands of tears will fall down your cheeks.

You will cry a thousand times,
for love.

Another 5,000 times you will get angry.

But everything has a meaning.

We embrace our mistakes,
and we love our wounds.

But we achieved
everything we dreamed of.

We fell,
but we learned to get up.

We have everything we wanted,
someone with tender eyes came to heal our hearts.

But I just want to tell you,
to enjoy life.

Enjoy every moment,
live, because
every moment will be a memory,
in your soul.

They call me crazy,
because I want to love again.

I want a good love,
the one that brightens your mornings.

When the nights are short,
between laughter and laughter.

The one that when the wounds are scraped,
you talk.

The one that motivates you to get out of bed,
with the plan of going to the moon.

It whispers "I love you" in your ear,
because only you should know.

The one that just a glance,
says everything and says nothing.

"Expectations are like salt—
a little enhances the flavor,
too much ruins everything."

It was a goodbye,
A different goodbye.

It sounded the same,
but it felt a little different.

It sounded like a daily goodbye,
but it felt like,
see ya never.
It felt like a see ya never,
to time and space,
but a forever to emotions,
experiences, and connections.

It was a goodbye to the body of the bond,
but not to the soul of what we'd lived.

In another life, I was a sailor and I kissed your lips.
In another life, we lived in a cave, and we warmed each other with the fire of our love.
In another life, you were my princess,
And I was a simple blacksmith.
Two worlds, a sincere encounter.
In this life, we chose each other, as in other lives, out of simple desire.
In the next life, I will recognize your gaze and choose you again.

in your expectations,
in your control,
in the "shoulds,"
in the "musts,"
in the "why didn't you do it?"

In part,
I'm to blame for your unhappiness.
And in part,
I want to be free.

The eternal dilemma:
to be or not to be...

My heart is sad,
And my soul is resigned.

Another stage,
Once again.

A transcendence of the inner self,
Of the wounded child.

Who understood,
Who realized.

What he didn't have,
He won't have.

That place,
That little piece of land,
That is family.

I don't deny that one day it will bloom,
but today I allow myself to feel.

It's only the transcendence of detachment.
Of what never was.

A closed flower,
that one day may open

Miradas turbias,
Una rosa negra,
y abrazos fríos al alma.
Solo porque no pudiste darme mi anhelo,
no es tu esencia,
es mi sufrimiento.
Que corrompe el alma sin consuelo,
Una apuñalada en la esencia divina,
Sin perdón alguno,
Sin perdón genuino.
No hay memoria,
no hay recuerdo,
solo 200 años de resentimiento

I'd choose the one of acceptance.
It gives strength and motivation.

Although completeness
is similar,
it feels different.

Many would choose love.
But can you love another person without accepting them?

Instead, accept them for everything they are and how they are.
That's powerful.

I felt the echo of the scent of your skin,
on my pillow
Skin as fine as a beam of light,
Fragile as Japanese porcelain,
Soft as the finest silk,
White as a fine gold plating,
radiant as only you know how to wear it.

One gray afternoon,
with a struggle in my chest,
I allowed myself to doubt my manhood.
I opened the search engine and typed:
"Image of a masculine man."
I expected Vikings, a lumberjack,
Maybe a cowboy with a fierce gaze.
But no, they were normal guys.
Like you, like me.
And in my mind I thought:

I'm not that man who used
arrogance as currency,
my strongest side is confidence.

I'm not that man,
who doesn't cry,
who doesn't show his feelings,
and whose tears flow.

I'm not that man,
who controls and imposes,
I'm that man who guides, helps, and builds.

I'm not that man who uses
chivalry as superiority,
use as kindness for all equally.

I'm not that man,
who measures his manhood by his gaze.
Self-care isn't vanity,
it's self-love,
another sin.

I'm that man,
who doesn't compete with others,
I only challenge myself,
and I want to win.

I'm that man,
who wants to take care of my children,
parenting skills,
and my partner equally.

Let no one expect anything from me.
I have my values,
and I won't doubt that.

THIS IS ME! ​​AND THIS IS MY MANHOOD!

So if being a man
is just about meeting expectations...
I don't know, bro,
could I have come out of the closet? Hahaha.

Let's slow down the world,
It spins so fast,
that my steps can't catch up with my shadow.
The hours are minutes,
I blink the minutes,
And I don't even see the seconds.
Time slips away,
Life slips away from me.
I run after the urgency of the urgent,
Headlong to the rhetorical,
Where did I pause it?
I've already lived three lives of 30 years.

I long to rest in your eyes,
and just be,
in the murmur of silence.

In the sweetness of the calm
that smells of roses in the morning.

May your skin be my home,
and silence my insecurities,
just with your presence.

May our inner world collide,
in endless conversations,
losing itself in the depths of our universes.

May every morning be a choice,
may every morning be freedom,
to build a future with you.

These will be the last verses of this stage.

Verses of love, suffering, searching,
and much compassion.

Questions were answered,
and new ones were generated.

We cried, we were hopeful,
we died, and we were reborn.

76,000 words and 14,000 feelings,
3,000 tears and 18 sighs.

“Simple feelings on paper,
my greatest support,
my only company,
and my most faithful sage.”

I tried to define love,
but I couldn't come to an agreement.

Every heart has its own interpretation,
and I only came to one conclusion.

Love doesn't need to exist;
love endures throughout time.

How many times have I loved a memory,
and many times, only future ones.

How many times have I loved ideals,
how many times have I loved memories.

I have loved restlessness,
I have loved artificially.

I have loved without being loved,
how many times have I been loved without being able to love.

Sometimes I didn't love myself,
and at other times, I loved myself more than anyone.

How many times have I loved an imaginary person,
how many times have I loved no one.

How difficult it is to rationalize love.

We stop fearing love
when we accept that it won't last forever.

If our ideas don't end it,
our feelings, life or death will.

We will enjoy it while it exists,
we will not bind it,
we will set it free.

Every choice will be chosen,
every day that lifts us up, we will know how to sustain it.

And when it doesn't continue,
we may break,
but we will pick up each piece,
we will carefully reunite them.

Because sometimes breaking up
is the most honest way
to find ourselves whole again,
with the truth,
with ourselves.

There is one thing beautiful on this planet,
and that is life.
How beautiful life is.

Waking up every morning,
smiling at your loved ones,
just one "good morning."

How wonderful it is to go to work,
talking about silly things,
challenges that invite you to improve.

How wonderful it is to come home,
your pet wags its tail,
and your rest time arrives.

For yourself,
for your hobbies,
for your silence.

How wonderful life is,
just to have it.
How wonderful.

Your eyes are more beautiful,
on your face.

Those lips are redder,
with your grace.

Those overalls,
they fit your body well.

That shirt looks more colorful,
with your smile.

And your hands are prettier,
when you hug me.

"I saw her appear out of nowhere,
she had a notebook in her hands,
with beautiful black flowers handwritten on it,
beautifully wrapped in a charming scarf."

I would give you my compassion,
but it would hurt me,
if you're not ready.

Because I can't hold,
in my arms,
so much pain.

I can't give you love,
because I don't feel it,
I'm not there yet.

But I will give you my tenderness,
so that you can paint each tear with color.

I could say I have a romantic heart,
but the mind is the romantic one.
It's the one that's infatuated with a kiss,
with walking hand in hand,
dreams of candlelight.
My heart only knows how to love,
it loves calmly,
it loves everyone.
My mind is like a capricious child,
it shakes shelves,
it cries, it seeks you.
While my heart awaits the genuine,
the divine.

Three clothespins hanging from a rope,
sheets floating in the air,
scenting like hand-washed soap.
A warm plate on the table,
with the promise of refills,
of food that warms the soul.
A cane resting against the wall,
after a hard walk,
tired of such a long life.
A few wrinkles on the smile,
of war, immigration, and hope,
with much unconditional love.